Beloved
by captainwhiteshadow
Summary: Based on the beliefs of the Catholic church. God sends an unbaptised child to Hell, where she awaits Rapture. But she finds the love of a family with her beloved guardian demon, Alastor. WARNING: May be offensive; don't like, don't read.


**Disclaimer: The men who wrote the Bible are dead, and nobody really owns it anyway...so yeah...**

**A/N: This idea came to me after playing Dante's Inferno. Then I read a bit about the Divine Comedy on Wikipedia, which lead me to reading up on Catholicism. I was disgusted by what I found. Apparently, the Catholic church believes that unbaptised babies go to Hell. That is sick, and those who believe in such a thing are pure evil. So I decided to write a story based on the alternate reality (because it's certainly not true in this one) where such a horrible fate befell the innocent.**

_**Beloved**_

I watched over them, those poor souls who had not been shown the Way. No...while most would call it the Way, I call it a Way; His Way. And had I been human, I wouldn't have walked that path either. Not when He makes this happen to those who don't obey, to those who don't fall on their knees and worship Him for His supposed righteousness, even though He had committed several atrocities Himself, all for some flimsy notion of "the greater good." I wouldn't bow before a tyrant who makes up insane rules, then doesn't show Himself for thousands of years, and expects everyone from every culture all around the world to know who He is and worship Him as the one true god of all creation, and if they don't then He will send them to burn in Hell for all eternity.

The child, no older than four years old, sat in the middle of the room with all the others: children, infants, the mentally retarded, and those who had generally been dealt a bad hand in life—these were the souls who, for whatever reason, had never been shown the Way and had never been baptised, either from lack of knowing what a baptism even was, lack of wanting to be baptised, or lack of living long enough to. And as she played with a dirty, frayed teddy bear with one eye missing, I couldn't help but feel my heart ache and my blood boil. This sweet, innocent child—her only sins being those typical of humans her age: coveting toys, often times complaining when they didn't get their way, and the occasional theft of candy from the local mini-mart—with her curly blonde hair, sapphire eyes, and one leg missing due to the sadistic murder and torture-rape by her step-father, deserved nothing less than to bask in love and paradise, yet because of a rule set in place by God long ago, she wallowed in pain and misery here in Hell with all the other lost souls, waiting for the Rapture so that she may be given another chance at life when the New World begins. Not even our King knew when the Rapture would happen, so this girl could very well be waiting several millennia to come.

You'd think that after nearly six thousand years, I'd be used to this shit. I see souls pass through the Gates of Hell every day, like a continuous river flowing into the Lake of Fire. I've looked into the depths of their being and seen the atrocities that humans can commit. I've tortured these vile souls in ways the human mind cannot even perceive, and made sure that they pay the price of their sins in full. Most humans have this crazy idea that we demons torture them for all eternity. That's a long fucking time, and it makes me disgusted that humans could actually wish that sort of thing on their brothers and sisters. As soon as they have been punished for their sins, each sin having an associated punishment of equal value to the atrocity committed, they are sent here, to Limbo, the First Circle of Hell, to await the Rapture. But often, too damn often, we get souls of those who are almost entirely sinless; who haven't even had time to really commit any serious crimes against God. And it is my job—well, not a job per se, more like volunteer work for demons who actually feel some compassion and mercy—to watch over them and try to make their afterlife bearable.

"Uncle Alastor," the little girl addressed me, her blue eyes shining with the ghost of admiration and adoration, "where is Aunt Zellie?"

I chuckled softly at the terms of endearment the girl had given to Azazel and I. Only the girl and I were allowed to call Azazel "Zellie," while anyone else would get a white hot sword through the throat. Or up the ass. "She is currently in the Seventh Circle, working."

"Oh," was the girl's solemn reply. After a moment, she asked, "What happens in the Seventh Circle?"

I sighed. Children her age should not have to know such horrors, but seeing as she had experienced it first-hand and Hell would be her home for quite some time, she had the right to know. After all, innocence was lost here. "The Seventh Circle is Violence. Those who were abusive and strove to strike down their foes in life are punished for their crimes in the afterlife."

Her eyes glazed over, and I could tell that my explanation had brought back memories of her former life. But she kept her emotions in check—something very mature for one her age—as she asked in a hollow voice, "Is Steven there?"

I didn't entirely know how to answer her. Steven was her step-dad, and while he deserved some of the worst punishments Hell has to offer, he was still alive and had unfortunately been let off the hook thanks to his wealth and status as a high-ranking businessman, along with the help of a few friends and a shady lawyer. But I didn't want to tell her that, so I lied, "Yeah. We got him, and he's paying severely for what he did to you. He'll never hurt you again."

No child on the planes of Earth, Heaven or Hell should have had reason to smile the way she did when she heard those words. She looked ready to cry tears of joy. She immediately set her teddy bear down and hobbled over to me on her one good leg. Wrapping her arms around my leg as if hanging on for dear life, she said, "Oh, thank you, Uncle Alastor!"

I swallowed hard and felt my own eyes grow hot with tears. I smiled weakly and picked her up, cradling her in my arms, wrapping them around her petite frame like castle walls to guard her from the dangerous world around her. "Annabelle," I whispered her name. Her lips curved into that contented smile she always had when I called her name. "I know that this is not the afterlife you wanted. You deserve so much better." I swept a lock of golden hair out of her eyes. "But as long as you are here, I am with you. And I will always be there to protect you. There is no force in the Three Kingdoms that will hurt you before going through me first. And I know that Aunt Zellie feels the same, too."

Annabelle looked up at me with those baby blue eyes full of wonder. "You mean it?"

I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I promise."

She pressed her face into my chest, and this time I felt wet droplets against my skin. "I love you, Uncle."

I smiled. The ignorant humans and arrogant angels say it's impossible for a demon to love anything. The bond between Annabelle and I was proof that they were all wrong. "I love you, too."

Moments later, I heard her snoring softly, felt the rise and fall of her chest. And her little heart beat in tune with mine...


End file.
